


Just Remember

by YuujinA



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Model AU, Photographer AU, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 15:58:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9278957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YuujinA/pseuds/YuujinA
Summary: Yuri is a freelance photographer hired for a private photo taking session with the Russian model he's been crushing on for ages.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based on an episode of the Japanese drama: Sweet Room.

 

Camera in one hand, phone in the other, Yuri stood by the door to the executive suite, internally shaking from the nervousness he's been bottling up the whole week. His eyes flitted over to the sender's address for the billionth time that day, squinting as he struggled to figure out if this was all really happening or just one cruel joke.

 

After all, it wasn't every day you'd receive an email from the model you've eye candied for years, saying that he'd pay you a few hundred bucks just to take some pictures of him up in his fancy hotel room. Yuri wasn't even sure if he could call this a job. Heck, he didn’t even know if the person on the other side was really Viktor Nikiforov himself or just some good for nothing troll. It was too good to be true.

 

But stupidly enough, here he was, choosing to believe that this was all legit for the sake of his thinning wallet, and as his knuckles pounded on the door, the only thing he really hoped for was to not leave empty handed. Viktor Nikiforov or not - as long as he got the price he was promised - all was good. 

 

He knocked a few more times till a click resounded and Yuri took a deep breath, half of him already expecting it to be someone else but he'll try to look professional nonetheless. With one swift motion, the door opened and if physical looks could kill, Yuri would've already been dead.

 

His face, all along a blank slate, was now condensed into a mixture of disbelief, shock and awe when he took in the six foot beauty that had just appeared in front of him, clad in nothing but a bathrobe, glistening chest in full view still wet from a shower. Yuri's eyes widened, heart momentarily stopping before pounding fast at the sight of Viktor leaning casually against the wooden door frame, gazing at him through his beautiful blue orbs and a good natured smile curved on his thin lips. His hands almost reached out to touch him but thankfully he resisted. He was just that beautiful - too beautiful that he couldn't tell if he was real or not.

 

"You must be Yuri," the silvery haired man spoke in a friendly tone, eyes crinkling. "I'm sorry, I didn't expect you to be here so early so I haven't really done any of my hair or makeup yet."

 

Yuri didn't offer any response to that, still caught up in the trance cast by Viktor's otherworldly looks to even notice that this was him in his natural form, free of makeup and styling gel. 

 

"Hey. You okay?"

 

He snapped a finger at him, causing Yuri to flinch at the sudden movement and promptly whisked back to reality. He sheepishly fixed his glasses so that it sat squarely on his face, all of a sudden feeling very self-conscious of how he looked.

 

And as he sneaked a few upward glances at the Greek god in front of him, he figured that for the first time in a long while, reality seemed sweeter than his dreams.

 

“I-I'm okay." 

 

The Russian model gave him a wary look, seeing right through his lie before a certain realisation hit him and his mouth parted slightly in understanding, a look of mild hurt flashed across his face.

 

"Do I really look that different without makeup on?" 

 

"What? No!" 

 

The way he had blurted out like it was the most obvious thing in the world took Viktor by pleasant surprise and his smile soon made a reappearance along with a faint blush.

 

"You can come in and have a seat while I go work on my face and this mess up here."

 

He ruffled the damp, silvery mass on his head, still dripping as it lay matted on his fringe line. Yuri had to bite down on his lip to restrain himself from gasping. He could feel himself staring, _hell he was staring_. 

 

The bags beneath his eyes, the redness that tinted the tip of his nose and cheeks. Even his lips that were slightly cracked because of the harsh winter winds - Yuri found them all impeccably beautiful. 

 

"Well actually..." He started, gaze lowering as his shyness took over. "...You already look amazing the way you are."

 

A long moment of drawn out silence ensued and never in his life had Yuri felt this embarrassed. What part of him legitimately thought that what he said earlier was a good idea? He wanted the whole hotel to just crumble and bury his entire existence.

 

Thankfully, Viktor must've sensed the internal nervous breakdown playing out in front of him as he soon broke into a knowing laugh.

 

"You're very straightforward. But I guess I like that about you." 

 

Hearing that, Yuri visibly brightened, the weight on his shoulders having been lifted off and he met his gaze again, offering him a warm, hopeful smile as Viktor did the same. 

 

"Well I don't exactly have all the time in the world left so please come in."

 

"Ah S-Sorry!" He spluttered, immediately bowing apologetically before entering the door, red-faced.

 

Inside, a spacious living room awaited him, adorned with Victorian style furniture and beige wallpaper. Over by the dining area, the pre-arranged silverware was basking in the sun’s rays pouring in through the window. Even though he was in Tokyo right now, Yuri couldn't help but feel as if he'd just walked into Viktor's home in Russia, everything felt so different up here.

 

He was probably exaggerating however. The bare reminder that Viktor was just a few steps away made him incapable of speech, let alone coherent thoughts.

 

"You don't mind me getting ready here do you?"

 

"Sure." He looked around a bit, confusion clouding his features. "But is there no one else here?" 

 

"Nope, it's just the two of us. Ah I forgot to mention..." Viktor paused to settle his foundation back on the desk and caught his gaze mid-way. "The photo shoot today is...personal. It's for myself actually. That's why I don't have any of my usual assistants with me." 

 

"Yourself?" 

 

"Yes. I'd like you to take beautiful pictures of me."

 

He offered a smile, a smile that for some reason tugged painfully at the ends of Yuri’s heartstrings. 

 

"Are you sure you want me for this job? I mean my photos...they can’t possibly compare with the ones taken professionally.”

 

“I’ve seen your work Yuri and I think you’re perfect for this.”

 

“You’ve seen…my work?” 

 

Viktor nodded, his eyes brimming with sincerity. “They’re beautiful.”

 

Utterly flattered, the corners of Yuri’s mouth lifted and his heart soared, thinking that those two words coming from the man he’s admired for so long meant more than anything. It lighted a spark in his dying passion for this line of work.

 

“Thank you. I’ll give it my all,” he grinned, fingers fastening around his camera. “Shall we get started then?" 

 

 

 

 

It didn’t take long at all for Viktor to get ready. Having tossed aside his eyeliner and contour for a more natural look, one that stuck true to his features. By the time he was done, the only thing he had on was a light foundation and a tinge of lip balm, everything else was left untouched. He looked simple, young and fresh –a huge contrast to his usual sultry look – like a breath of fresh air.

 

And Yuri felt that this was Viktor in his most beautiful form – himself. 

 

He disappeared into the bathroom for a short while, appearing again in a simple white button down and a pair of body hugging jeans. He’d left the first two buttons undone, revealing pale skin and prominent collar bones that seemed to glisten in the sunlit room. Yuri swallowed hard, a delicate blush painting his cheeks, and he had to resist the completely inappropriate thoughts popping up in his head. 

 

When the model finally settled by the window ledge, his body relaxed and his head tilted a little, lips parting teasingly; there was no need for words or cues after that –Yuri positioned his eye to the view finder, fingers hovering over to the button and the camera started clicking. 

 

He earnestly captured Viktor's every move, too enthralled, too captivated to even look away. The way his lips curved up in a coy smile, sometimes falling to form a faint smirk, the way his hands ran through his silvery hair, bathing in the sun's afterglow, how at times his blue eyes would meet Yuri's gaze through the camera and he'd break into a sheepish laugh. 

 

Arching his body, biting his lip -Viktor pulled them all off effortlessly, giving a feast to both the shutter and the photographer's eyes. There was something about the way he carried himself so elegantly that intrigued the photographer, like every pose was made to complement his body.

 

The pressure on the shutter never disappeared for long. Yuri couldn't remember when was the last time his fingers moved this fast, as if desperate to store away every little memory he had with this man in his little SD card. 

 

With the sunlight filtering through the windows, Viktor bathed in its ethereal glow as it fell softly on his skin, reminding Yuri of everything beautiful in this world.

 

Like a wingless angel. That was what Viktor reminded him of.

 

As the sun gradually disappeared from the wintery sky, the shadows began pooling into the room; the only thing that remained constant was Viktor's beauty and the rapid clicking of the camera. 

 

Yuri had suggested a change in background to which the model had spared no hesitation in picking the bed as their next shooting spot. He now sat on the queen sized bed with his shirt unbuttoned, arms spread out beside him on the headset, revealing the chiselled lines of his toned torso that ended at where his pelvic bones peeked out from his jeans. The photographer made sure to capture everything, clicking a few times just for extra measure, and he silently hoped that Viktor wouldn’t notice how much he was sweating right now because of the sheer amount of sex appeal he was exuding.

 

The older man had his leg propped up, his body and arms leaning against it for support as his expression transcended to a dreamy one, eyelids fluttering shut as a tranquil smile danced across his face.

 

"Viktor." 

 

Said man responded with a jerk of his head.

 

"Yeah?" 

 

"You have a really beautiful smile." 

 

As if to thank him, Viktor shot him a breath-taking view of his pearly whites which made Yuri's heart do somersaults. 

 

But something was bothering him. 

 

His eyes...

 

He'd been noticing strange things about them. Like how they would waver for one fleeting second, a wave of sadness taking over before it'd recede back into his mind as fast as it came, leaving behind nothing but two empty marbles.

 

His eyes were...lifeless. 

 

"Is something wrong?" 

 

Viktor's voice interrupted his trail of thoughts and he immediately apologized, shaking his head and waving it off. The Russian only gave him a long look. His face no longer radiant or serene.

 

Viktor got up, slowly coming forward to close the distance between him and the photographer. The camera clicked rapidly with each step, Yuri had long forgotten who he was taking these pictures for. As far as he knew, he was capturing memories for himself. Memories of the man he was developing feelings for.

 

The taller man stopped short of the other, his hands reaching behind his small shoulders to pull off the strap from his neck. Lowering his camera, Yuri gave him a confused look and Viktor ignored him, only leaning in to press their foreheads together. The moment he felt his cool skin on his, Yuri froze, the blood rushing to his cheeks.

 

His eyes behind the glasses were wide and admiring, and it broke Viktor's heart.

 

Because he didn't know if he could bear to tell him that -

 

_"I'm dying, Yuri."_

 

An ear shattering silence; Yuri thought he'd heard things wrong.

 

"What?" His breath hitched in his throat, a disbelieving laugh escaping him. " _What?_ "

 

The blue irises that lay inches away from his were now wavering with such intense sadness. A sadness that shouldn't belong in the most beautiful shade of blue Yuri's ever seen. A bitter smile soon found its way on Viktor's lips and he looked absolutely hopeless. 

 

His mouth parted to form the difficult name of a rare disease and Yuri didn't manage to hear any of it, his ears had blocked them all out.

 

"...I only have two months left."

 

His voice trailed off and his gaze dropped to the ground, just like how Yuri's heart had sunk to the pits of his stomach.

 

This couldn't be happening. 

 

Seven billion people in the world, one in seven billion. 

 

Did they just have to take away the most beautiful one in Yuri's eyes?

 

It was _so cruel_. 

 

"That's why I wanted you to take these photos of me. As a reminder to myself that I was beautiful once because...I don't know how long more I can stay like this," Viktor explained, his voice reduced to a mere broken whisper. "I'm dying... _fast_."

 

Yuri didn't know he was crying till he tasted the saltiness on his lips. He looked at him breathlessly, mouth parting a few times but no words came out. The grip on his camera grew tighter till it shook. It was the only thing keeping him together so that he wouldn't break down in front of Viktor. He didn't want to be the one crying. It wasn't him who was dying after all and Viktor was just a stranger. 

 

So why did it still hurt so badly? Why did it feel like he’d just lost someone important? 

 

Noticing the tears streaming down his face, Viktor slowly reached out to remove his glasses. He coaxed the camera out of his trembling fingers, placing both on a drawer nearby before coming back to wipe the tears from his eyes.

 

"Shhh...don't cry," he soothed, breaking into a low chuckle. "You're a strange one. Why are you crying for a stranger?"

 

"I-I'm sorry-" Yuri choked out, rubbing furiously at his tears. "It's just so unfair. Y-You're the most beautiful person I've ever seen and yet -you're going to _die_."

 

There was a glint in Viktor's gaze and for the first time, something shown in those two hollow orbs. 

 

"Do you mean it?” he asked, desperation laced with every word. “Do you really mean it?" 

 

Yuri nodded slowly, still trying to resist the tears that wouldn't stop flowing.

 

"Ever since that photo shoot you did in the field of flowers...you've always been beautiful to me. That hasn't changed. _It won't ever change_." 

 

They both fell silent, the pain still tearing up every bit and piece of Yuri's being. It was a miracle that he hadn't collapsed in a sobbing mess yet when he could feel his heart being physically ripped in two. A part of him wished that today never happened, that he had written off the email as some stupid joke. 

 

But it was all too late now. He'd been too naive and fate had been too nice to him. His heart was meant to be broken from the very moment he showed up at his door.

 

As if his thoughts were made clear for the whole world to see, Viktor's hands were on his face, his expression apologetic but soon unreadable.

 

"Thank you, Yuri," he rasped, gaze softening as he caressed the boy's cheek. He couldn't remember when was the last time someone looked at him like this; full of love and sorrow, a fascinating combination. "And if it wouldn't be too much to ask..."

 

Fingers sliding down his jawline, he lifted his chin so that Yuri's wandering eyes would meet his. 

 

"Remember me." 

 

Yuri didn't know what led up to this. All he could feel was the other man's lips on his in a fraction of a second, kissing and moving fervently. He let out a little gasp, pulling away out of sheer instinct from the whole suddenness of the situation. But when he caught sight of the desire written all over Viktor’s face, Yuri almost teared up a second time because this was the man he could only long for all these years, like a star in the night’s sky –unreachable. And to think Viktor was _right here_  - wanting him as much as he did right now – it almost seemed like a dream.  

 

He needed this. 

 

He needed him.

 

Taking one shuddering breath, he pressed forward, reconnecting their lips in a soft kiss, feeling the older man’s arms slowly wrapping around his waist, holding him close – Yuri let himself fall.

 

Even though he knew he'd be the one broken in the end and being forced to pick up the pieces alone. He didn't care. He only wanted Viktor.

 

His hands clung onto the back of Viktor’s neck, relishing every moment of his lips on his and the feeling of their chests pressed tight together. The butterfly pecks soon advanced into something deeper as the Russian gently nibbled his partner’s lower lip, allowing his tongue to slip in when the boy had let out a quiet moan, his grip on his silvery hair tightening.  Their tongues fought and danced as they hungrily drank in each other’s ecstasy, too caught up in the moment to think of anything else but each other. 

 

Heat pulsed through his body as Viktor began working his way down his neck, sucking and licking on every patch of skin his mouth came across, determined to leave a mark of himself on this boy. Yuri’s pants grew unbearably tight, the slightest touch from Viktor being enough to send him over the edge and the moment he felt his cool fingers palming him through his jeans, he swore he almost lost it. 

 

“ _V-Viktor_ ,” he gasped, sinking his head into his shoulder, the waves of pleasure shaking him to the core. 

 

Hearing his name being uttered between moans and gasps aroused the Russian even more, his patience growing shorter as his own length hardened. The way he shook in his arms, shivering with pleasure and his hot breath against his neck –Viktor couldn’t take it anymore and with one big swipe, he swept Yuri off his feet.

 

He carried him over to the bed, never once breaking their kiss, and when Yuri finally lay amongst the sheets, gazing up at him through his half-lidded eyes and reddened cheeks, Viktor's breath faded away. It wasn't just lust showing on Yuri's face; it was love in its purest form. Something he hasn't received in a long time.

 

Climbing on top of him, he silently wondered if the boy was an angel sent down from above, as an apology for the little time he has left. And if that were the case, Viktor figured he could find it in himself to forgive whoever it was up there that was responsible for his fate. For Yuri appearing today, he was willing to call it even.

 

As the sun dipped, the room gradually grew darker. Their clothes lay strewn on the floor, sweaty bodies clinging onto each other in unspoken need. Yuri was reduced to nothing more than a moaning mess beneath him, his nails digging into his back with each thrust, lost in an euphoria of Viktor’s lips, Viktor’s eyes, Viktor’s face - Viktor’s everything. Every living breathing fibre of him only wanted this beautiful, dying man, entangled with him in the best way possible.

 

He pounded into him deeper and deeper, sending Yuri panting and screaming out his name as he took the agony that came with the intense pleasure, his head falling back as his senses left him one by one.

 

Above him, Viktor had lost himself in the sweet sensation as well, moaning as he picked up speed and Yuri’s fingers tightened in his hair, crying out his name between choked gasps. They were on the brink when Viktor pulled Yuri up into his arms, thrusting his hips a few more times till he finally released inside of him, a low groan escaping him as he came down from his high.

 

Looking at the beautiful face before his, drenched in sweat and glowing red, Yuri rested his hands on the nape of his neck, pulling himself in till he was close enough to say, “I’ll remember you.”

 

A few drops landed on his hands, thinking they were sweat, Yuri didn’t think much of it until he caught sight of the faint blue eyes in the darkness, glistening with tears.

 

Fighting back his own sorrow, he reached out for his face, cupping it in his warm hands. Yuri would've given anything to stop time right then and there. So that he could continue living in this small but perfect moment forever. A world where he could hold Viktor like this, with nothing threatening to take him away.

 

Smiling weakly, Viktor caressed the fingers on his tear streaked skin, kissing each one of them before leaning in to whisper, "Thank you for everything."

 

 He then captured Yuri’s lips in his own again, allowing the both of them to fall back into paradise.

 

 

 

Yuri woke up the next morning naked and sore. Glancing beside him, Viktor was no longer there in the sheets. Panicking, he shot up and scrambled for his glasses, thinking he was seeing things wrong but he wasn't.

 

Viktor wasn’t there anymore.

 

In denial, Yuri trudged back and forth around the room, his head a mess and his heart broken beyond repair.

 

He came across his camera perched on top of the coffee table, stacked atop a few hundred dollar bills and a note.

 

Picking up the cream paper, he read the words scribbled in neat handwriting:

 

_“Thank you for last night. I don’t think anyone has ever looked at me the way you did. I won't forget that, so don't forget me. Also, don't try to look for me. You'll only get hurt. All I ask is for you to remember how beautiful I was. Just remember."_

Yuri stared down at the paper, his tears making a reappearance as Viktor's note shook in his grip. Grabbing his camera, he began looking through the photos he took yesterday.

 

Pictures after pictures of Viktor's beautiful form flitted past his sight, assuring him that it hadn't all just been a dream, the pain he was in right now was real and it was unbearable.

 

All he could think of was he left him. His angel had left him.

 

The last picture flashed by and Yuri felt his heart shattering again. He promptly collapsed into a sobbing mess, camera slipping from his grip and crashing onto the floor. There was a long crack on the screen now but the image remained, clear as day -Viktor holding onto his sleeping form, giving him one last kiss on the forehead. A goodbye kiss. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I regret everything


End file.
